


Doctor In Cloverfield

by Basmathgirl



Series: The Peter Chronicles [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna is still using Peter whilst searching for the Doctor when lo and behold he turns up! But as usual it is in the wrong order; leading to an unpleasant surprise. This is a sequel to <b>Desperately Seeking the Doctor</b>, so it helps to read that first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor In Cloverfield

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Oops! I hadn't realised until now that this part had not been posted. I cannot apologise enough!!

The Doctor slumped against the console, drained of any emotion. Oh how he missed her! What would he do to see her friendly face one more time? And more importantly, how would he get away with it?

“Oh that! That was when I was in Vegas investigating some luminous lizard. Never did find it. I did find a lizard of the human kind though. He wasn’t too bad in the end. You might have heard of him: Peter Vincent. He’s some sort of fancy magician,” Donna had told him nonchalantly one day when they were discussing what she had been doing during the time she had searched for him, and she let slip she had travelled to America. For some reason she had been quite cagey about it and would avoid the topic at all costs. What was weird was the fact the Doctor had let her get away with it, because there was always something or some topic to distract him away. He really wished he had bothered to ask more questions now.

Could he go and peep at her? Should he? It would be easy to wear a disguise of some sort to hide his face; and he had a whole wardrobe of clothes to choose from.

With a determined step, the Doctor headed out of the console room and straight for his vast collection of clothing.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Wearing a cowboy hat, sunglasses, a linen shirt and long shorts, the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS to find himself in the middle of nowhere. Almost literally. There wasn’t much to look at, but it certainly wasn’t Las Vegas, that as for sure. He peered about him and considered his options. Obviously the TARDIS had chosen this spot for a particular reason, but goodness knew why yet.

The place was almost as quiet as the grave, with the audible highlight being a crow flying about. He watched it head towards and then land on the nearby motel. Might as well go and have a look, he thought.

He took his sunglasses off to peer at the sign outside the motel reception:  
OFFICE OPEN FROM 10 AM TILL 11PM  
Nothing unusual in that. Nothing at all.

The surprise was when he felt something; no, strike that; _someone_ tug on his trouser leg. He looked down to see a young boy gazing expectantly up at him.

“Yes? Can I help you?” the Doctor asked the boy.

The lad’s face lit up with delight. “You’re him! Can I have your autograph?” he asked.

“Oh!” the Doctor exclaimed in shock. “I wasn’t expecting that. Do you erm have a pen, or even paper?” he replied, patting at his pockets and realising that he didn’t have his normal jacket pockets to rummage through.

“Wait here, mister!” the boy ordered him, and dashed off, disappearing behind the building.

The Doctor decided to follow the boy to see if there was any other sign of life, and just happened to glance at a large, expensive looking car parked in the motel parking lot. Sitting on the back seat was an item that was _very_ familiar. It looked just like Donna’s notebook that she wrote _everything_ in. It couldn’t be, could it?

Acting automatically, he drew out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area. There was a definite blip. She was here!

Excitement filled him up as he tried to tamper it down; he didn’t want to be disappointed after all this time. But the fact was, he almost wanted to squeal with concealed glee.

He followed the readings on the sonic, and it led straight to one of the rooms. Well, that made sense, at least. Judging by the position of the sun it was still quite early in the morning, so if Donna genuinely was there she’d probably be sleeping.

With a silly grin on his face he approached the room she was in and swept the sonic over the door lock. It clicked open without too much trouble, and sprung open a smidge. Gently, he pressed on the door to open it further, and noted that the room wasn’t particularly light inside. Whoever was in there hadn’t got up yet and opened the curtains. Telling himself that he just wanted to confirm she was in there, he pushed on the door slightly more.

Fortunately the door didn’t squeak. How awful would it be if it had, and Donna wasn’t in there after all? What story would he have to concoct to cover himself? Best not to think along those lines until he had to.

He could sense her now. Gingerly, he placed a foot inside the room and stepped into the gloom. Quickly acclimatising his eyes to the strange pinkish light, he noted a largish double bed, and within it two occupants.

Oh! He must have the wrong room after all. Damn sonic screwdriver! He’d have to go through the settings on it with a fine toothcomb to spot the fault. Unless she had been in the room, and now she wasn’t, he pondered.

He was brought out of his musings by the occupants groaning. Yes; they’d actually groaned! With relief, the Doctor remembered that he’d put the filter key in his left pocket, and hurriedly pulled it out and placed it around his neck before he was spotted. All he had to do now was not act like some peeping Tom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

“Have you got a licence for that weapon?” a voice blearily asked. A voice that the Doctor instantly recognised as Donna. His insides did back flips as he stood there holding his breath.

Her answer was a growling chuckle from the other occupant; obviously a man by the sound of it. Or a woman with a really bad case of sore throat, he supposed.

“All I know is, it isn’t firing blanks,” the man softly spoke into Donna’s ear, chuckling again as he hugged her closely.

“Oh yeah? What proof have you got of that? For all I know you could be a Jaffa,” she retorted.

“You cheeky bitch!” the man exclaimed, and lifted his body to rear over her in a pretend menacing way. “Come here and I’ll fucking show you how full I am!”

“Full of shite,” she laughed at him. “You can’t fool me, Peter.”

‘Peter?’ the Doctor mouthed to himself. Oh no! Surely not! She wasn’t in bed with that Peter Vincent fellow, was she? The Doctor really wished he’d bothered to research who the heck Peter Vincent was now.

“Turn over and let me in then,” Peter griped at her. “Or are you going to let all of this go to waste?”

Donna shifted in the bed, causing the bedsheet to dip down, uncovering their obviously naked bodies; and the Doctor threw his hand over his eyes. 

“Why would I do that?” Donna positively purred at him. “Especially when I’ve been waiting for you to wake _up_.”

“Oh yes! I’ve definitely woken _up_ ,” Peter confirmed, grinning at her. “Would madam care to test out the equipment? There are no hidden doors.”

The Doctor heard another male groan, and then Donna teasing him, “Nothing hidden there at all, Sunshine. So what else does it do? Are you going to make it disappear?”

The Doctor was slowly feeling his way around the room at this point, having ruled out the door that led to the outside world, as a change of light when he opened it would cause them to notice him there. If he could manage it, he wanted to get to the bathroom or the wardrobe, so that he could shut the sound of their antics out of his head. That was the plan, anyway.

He certainly didn’t want to hear Peter reply, “I’m going to fucking make it disappear and then reappear from your body. Several times.” 

Ew ew ew!!! Too much information!

As grunts, gasps and groans of mutual pleasure hit his ears, the Doctor found the wardrobe, and slunk into it. Yay! He flung out a hand to grab the wardrobe door to shut it, and found open air. There wasn’t a wardrobe door. What?! What was the matter with these people?!! Couldn’t they supply a proper wardrobe for someone to hide in? 

He wasn’t going to stay there, listening to them slobber all over each other; not if he could help it! So he got down on his hands and knees, and risked opening his eyes to crawl to the bathroom. With a happy click, he eased the bathroom door shut. Phew! Safe for the time being.

Except he hadn’t escaped from them completely. There were lots (and I mean lots!) of loud moans, shouts of “Yes!” and then to top it, the bed began to thump against the wall. ‘Oh lordy! Please make it stop,’ he muttered soundlessly to himself as he sat with his hands firmly clasped over his ears. Why had he thought this would be a good idea?

Just when he thought they had finished, the banging started up again. He knew Donna was extraordinary, but he hadn’t accounted for her being so in this way; though he wondered why he hadn’t considered it.

Because it led to traitorous thoughts, he realised. From the snippet he had accidentally spied, he could easily imagine how her skin was glistening with sweat, her hair fanning out over the pillows as she egged her lover on, her cries of excitement as he filled her body. All of those things were almost too easy to imagine, because he had personally seen her hot, bothered and excited during one of their numerous adventures; running hand in hand with him. The thing was, he now had the image of her naked body to add to the mix. And that was doing strange things to him. Strange and unwelcome things to him; that could get him found out if he didn’t get a grip on himself. Wrong word to use in the circumstances.

As the Doctor tried easing open the door to consider his chances of crawling to the main door instead, he clearly heard Peter yell out, “Fuck me! Yes! Yes!” 

At least he knew exactly what he wanted, the Doctor supposed.

He was halfway across the floor towards his goal when his brain decided to finally distract him away from the bed shenanigans and tell him who this Peter Vincent actually was. And he wasn’t best pleased about it!

He sat leaning against the doorframe glowering at the man who now lay alongside Donna, pressing small kisses onto her body. This was some maniac hit-and-run driver who seduced and abandoned women so that he could perfect some magic act, and gained a reputation as a vampire hunter, if memory served him right. Peter had helped exterminate one particularly dangerous batch of nasty haemovores; which meant that Donna could be in immense danger, if she stayed with him, at any moment.

There was a squeal from the bed, and the Doctor saw Peter lift Donna up over his shoulder to carry her to the bathroom whilst the pair giggled together like loons. As the bathroom door slammed shut the Doctor released a sigh of relief, opened the entrance and scuttled out onto the veranda outside.

“Mr Vincent! You didn’t sign my paper!” a young voice accused him; and he found himself at almost eye level with the boy who had asked for his autograph what seemed like hours before.

“I’m not,” he began to protest about mistaken identities, but the boy thrust a piece of paper and a pen at him. So the Doctor scrawled something onto it, hoping it looked like ‘Peter Vincent’ and then immediately handed it back.

The boy barely said thank you before running off again in the same direction he had earlier.

The Doctor sat there trying to catch his breath, and rid his mind of what he had just experienced. Something new to add to the nightmares, he thought. Or to the pleasant dreams…

Hang on! How had the boy seen him? In a panic he brought up a hand to his throat and found that the key was missing. The string must have broken on something. Oh great! How would he explain away the fact that he was sitting outside their room like an oversized garden gnome?

“There he is!”

Then to add to his horror a group of children led by the boy appeared, and they all started to shout for his attention. Despite his efforts at insisting he wasn’t Peter Vincent the children all demanded an autograph, on vary degrees of scraps of paper; so he just signed with some sort of scrawl hoping that would be the end of it.

“What the fuck is going on out here?!” Peter bellowed as he thrust open the motel room door to find out what all the commotion was about. “Well?!” he aimed at the Doctor lying like a sunbathing seal on the veranda as the children scattered.

The Doctor blinked back at him as both of them recognised their common features. “Hello, I’m the Doctor,” he announced as quietly as he could.

“Who?!” Peter exclaimed in shock.

The Doctor glanced meaningfully at the interior of the room. “Is there somewhere we can go and talk?”

Peter frowned at him briefly. “There’s a diner just down there,” he pointed out for the Doctor. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

The Doctor pointed in the same vague direction, and then started to saunter that way. 

“What was it, emo boy?” Donna called out in the background.

“Just some kids,” Peter called back to her, and quickly shut the door behind him; giving the Doctor a clear message to bog off! Without a backwards glance, Peter walked over to Donna to tell her as calmly as he could, “I have to go and talk some business with someone for a few minutes. I erm…”

She smiled softly at his agitated state. What was the matter with him? “Go and sort it out. I’ll be okay here for a while. I might have a bath or have a stroll around the town.”

“No!” he exclaimed loudly. “I mean, no, stay here. I won’t be too long; promise.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

He found the Doctor sitting on his own in the diner, and swept into the seat opposite him as theatrically as he could. “What did you fucking want?” he demanded as he sat down.

The Doctor sighed and then answered sternly, “I want you to stop swearing for a moment, Peter.”

“How do you know my fu-f-name?” he stammered. “Why are you here? And why do you look so...” He waved a hand about as he sought for the right word. “...awful?”

“I know your name because Donna told me she met you here. I need to explain that in her timeline she hasn’t met me again yet; but she will within a few weeks. In my timeline I’ve-” The Doctor momentarily slumped into his seat before resurrecting himself, and smiling wryly at Peter. “I’ve just lost her,” he admitted softly, pain etched on his face. “I can’t tell you how much I miss her, or how I’d love to knock on your motel room just to see her for a couple of seconds; but I can’t. She isn’t supposed to see me yet.”

“Timeline?” Peter asked in confusion. “She said you were an alien and travelled in a box, and now you are adding to this weird f-fun?”

“She told you that, huh? I don’t think you appreciate how much she trusts you. Yes, Peter, I’m alien and I travel through time and space in the TARDIS,” the Doctor explained. “Donna didn’t mind about the alien part, and loved the rest of it.”

Peter snorted. “So Donna goes back to the UK and finds you quite soon. What about me? Where do I fit into this picture?”

“You? You, Peter Vincent, are about to have a life changing adventure, and fulfil your destiny,” the Doctor told him, and then eyed him up and down. “Apparently.”

Peter glared angrily at him. “Taking cheap shots at me doesn’t help if you genuinely miss her, Doctor!”

“What can I get you both?” A waitress suddenly appeared by their side. She looked at them properly and cried out, “You’re Peter Vincent! Wow! Is this your brother?”

Peter was in two minds to tell her where to get off, but the Doctor spoke up first. “Thank you…” He glanced at her name badge, “...Loretta. We’ll both have tea.” He then noticed Peter shaking his head at him in warning. “Not tea then. Coffee? Er, no, not coffee. Two Cokes! Yes, we’ll have two Cokes, please,” he amended their order, glad to get something right.

“You don’t want tea or coffee here if you value your taste buds,” Peter mumbled to him, adding a grimace for emphasis. He had a pen out ready as their Cokes arrived, having anticipated the waitress’ request.

“Can I have your autograph?” she asked Peter; so he rustled off a signature on a serviette. “Thank you.” 

She hovered near them until Peter gently shooed her away.

“Sorry about that. A hazard of the job,” he commented.

“I know,” the Doctor said with feeling. “It’s when they throw you a banquet or a parade that it becomes extremely embarrassing.”

“You’ve had that?” Peter asked in amazement.

“Oh yes! Donna always hated the weddings even more. Sorry!” he quickly apologised.

“Weddings?!” Peter quizzed him.

The Doctor squirmed in his seat. “We were mistaken quite often... Look, I’m not here to drag all that up. The point is, I came here to peek at Donna, and you caught me doing it.”

So many questions flitted through Peter’s head. Where do you start with someone who claims to be from your future? “Do you kill her?” was the question he chose.

For a moment he thought the Doctor would burst into tears. “No,” he eventually answered in a low tone. “Close; but no.”

“Then warn her,” Peter insisted.

“It doesn’t work like that.” The Doctor shook his head sadly. “I can only change what is in flux. There are rules. Aren’t you going to ask about the other thing?”

Peter frowned. “What other thing?”

“The whole look thing. Surely you’ve twigged by now our more than passing resemblance would have affected Donna,” the Doctor said, trying to smile kindly at him.

“Perhaps it hasn’t,” Peter tried to reason, as anger flared through him. Anger that the emotions he had been feeling in the last few hours were based on a sham. Good grief, he had come close to suggesting to Donna that they cruised by one of the chapels Vegas was famous for! It had felt so right between them, and it was based on a lie, generated by her wanting someone else entirely.

The Doctor could see he was lying to himself. “She only ever said nice things about you,” he tried to console Peter. “You left an indelible mark on her life.”

He couldn’t cope with the Doctor talking about Donna as though she was dead; as though she would never see him again; as though she was lost to him forever. He had to get out of there. Suddenly the diner was claustrophobic, and he needed reassurance. Peter needed the reassurance only Donna could give him that he wasn’t wasting his time. He knew it was stupid to feel this way about her after only four days; if it had happened to someone else he’d have scoffed at them.

“I have to go back,” he stuttered out, and stood, leaving some money on the table. “I said I wouldn’t be long. Goodbye, Doctor.”

There was an unspoken ‘give her my love’ moment between them; and then Peter was marching out of the diner and aiming straight back to Donna.

The Doctor watched him go with a heavy heart. Another life damaged.

“Gee! I think your brother is wonderful!” Loretta started to gush to him. “We saw him once as a birthday treat.”

“I’m sure it was,” the Doctor answered, before thanking her and leaving himself.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

There was the sound of fists pounding on the motel door. Donna opened it with relief when she realised it was Peter returning; until she noticed his face was like thunder.

“What happened? Did the meeting go badly? How badly?” she wanted to know.

“This is a waste of time,” he told her.

“What is? I don’t understand,” she said, reaching out to him.

He shook her off. “You, me; this! A whole fucking waste of time,” he blurted out.

She stared at him in shock. “Tell me what happened. I demand to know what has caused this change in you, because this isn’t you. This is bonkers!”

He laughed emptily and then rounded on her. “Yes; fucking bonkers just about sums it up!” Pacing up and down, he tried to release his pent up rage. “You were never going to stay with me. I’m not sure that you even really _saw_ me! You only wanted _him_!”

“What the bloody hell are you going on about? Are you digging up that again; and what do you mean by not seeing you?” she queried.

“This!” he declared, pointing at his face. “I look exactly the same as him, and you knew it!”

She gasped in surprise; because he had found out, and because that also meant that… “Where is he? Tell me where he is,” she implored him. “Please, Peter.”

“No!” he yelled, and raised his hand as though he was going to strike her. They panted at each other in shock and horror, and then she was running for the door. “NO!” he screamed, grasping desperately for her hand. “Please, Donna! Please!”

She fought him off. “I’ve got to find him. Get off me!”

He rugby tackled her to the floor. “No, Donna. He said it’s the wrong time,” he insisted more quietly but with the same amount of vehemence.

She slapped him hard. “I hate you!” she spat out and raced for the bathroom in tears.

“Join the fucking club,” he replied to himself.

When she emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, Peter had gone.

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N2:** if you prefer the idea of Donna staying with the Doctor, then head towards [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5231342/chapters/12064685).


End file.
